


The Grieving Process

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: Luther (TV)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Emotions, Established Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25487644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: "Let me do this for you, Benny," he breathed, raggedly, into his ear, "Let me do some good. Let me make one thing right." One thing right in a sea of wrong, thought John.When things were spiralling, John needed a situation he could take full control of. Benny adored him, would do anything for him, and would always let him win. Right now, John needed to win.A story about Luther's never-ending cycle of grief and love/love and grief. Set at the end of Series 4, so spoilers for then, and slight spoilers (implied) for Series 5.
Relationships: John Luther/Benny "Deadhead" Silver
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	The Grieving Process

His back was pressed up against the cubicle divider, the icy-coldness of the surface seeping through his work-shirt and making him shudder - and it wasn't the _only_ thing; Benny's trousers were messily undone, his briefs pushed down only a few inches, but far enough for his hard prick to be exposed, pressing into his own belly every time Luther ran his hand up and down the shaft. He tried to calm himself, glancing around at his surroundings - drab green plasterwork and a lop-sided toilet seat affixed to the bowl. This place had become their sanctuary - somewhere where they could talk away from prying eyes - a place for illicit meetings and clandestine phone calls - and, oh yeah, a place for _this_.

"This isn't appropriate," Silver grumbled, "It's not proper that we should let this happen... under the circumstances--"

"--Which are?" John sneered.

"You're still grieving over Alice Morgan. Your mind isn't where it should be, boss."

"And what about last time?" John scoffed.

Benny cleared his throat; it was difficult for him to talk coherently when his superior's hand was rolling over his member in such a manner, "You were in trauma. Shock following the Marwood case. It wasn't proper then either. We shouldn't have." As much as the police hacker may have benefited from Luther's ways of relieving occupational tension, he did greatly care for his friend, and would have preferred for him to seek out a more traditional form of therapy.

"And the time before that?"

"You were ill, John." That was something they just didn't talk about, and Benny realised he'd overstepped the mark. The conversation reached an abrupt pause and Luther sighed.

"I'm not a case - not a killer whose mind you're trying to get into. You don't have to play detective, here, Benny - that's my job. Has it occurred to you that maybe I sometimes just do things," he said, his voice thick and gravelly - his fingers squeezing tighter around the erection he had been loosely holding, "Because I fucking _want_ to."

"C-- Careful there," Silver stammered, involuntarily arching into the grip, "I don't want this to be over too soon."

Luther heartily chuckled, "God, has it been that long?"

"Girls don't exactly go gaga for computer geeks like me," came the response. Benny found it easier to converse with machines than he did humans; he'd never found it easy to pick up women, or - indeed - men, but the latter was a notion he tried to keep far from his mind when convincing himself that he didn't swing that way, in spite of current evidence. He barely even acknowledged that this was something that happened from time to time - let alone that he _liked_ it; let alone that the thought of John in _his_ bed, unclothed and towering over him, was a masturbation fantasy buried in the very darkest recesses of his mind - and a powerful one at that, which got him off in seconds every time.

"Was the last time here - with me?" his train of thought was swiftly cut off by Luther's probing words. "It was? Wasn't it?" his lips curved into a smile.

There was a bashful shrug. "Maybe," Benny looked away.

"Is there ever anybody but me?" Luther grinned, and he watched the shorter man fidget nervously. "Mmm, I knew it," he hissed, teasing Benny's cock and rolling his thumb over the head, which was beginning to ooze, and spreading the clear secretion all over the delicate flesh. "Nobody does it better. Right?" he said, with a bite, as he moved in to kiss his fellow policeman - a slippery combination of lips and tongue which rendered the bearded man totally dumb - and a change of pace to the hand around his dick which had him teetering on the edge of climax.

"John. Oh, fuck. John," Silver moaned into his mouth before pulling away.

"That's me," Luther assured him. "Let me do this for you, Benny," he breathed, raggedly, into his ear, "Let me do some good. Let me make one thing right." One thing right in a sea of wrong, thought John. It was complicated, he realised, but also devastatingly simple: what could be a greater wrong to put right, to start with, than giving love and affection to such a deserving man who never seemed to receive it elsewhere? When things were spiralling, John needed a situation he could take full control of. Benny adored him, would do anything for him, and would always let him win. Right now, John _needed_ to win. And dependable Benny would always be there for him - would always be there to let him... _wouldn't_ he?

"You're going to make me--" Benny blurted, forcing his eyes closed, "Oh god." When he re-opened them, he saw that Luther had unzipped himself and was working on his own cock, a left hand wet with saliva - a blur in motion. He was captivated by its long length, and the noticeable contrast of deep brown foreskin sliding over a pink tip - a rhythmic movement which sent Benny into a trance of intense arousal, to a point where he wasn't sure what he wanted more - to see the look on Luther's face when he came, or the sight of his beautiful cock pulsating and spurting all over his hand. But the vivid images were all too much for him, and Benny would be the first to crack. "Fuck. I'm going to come, John," he grunted, soon spilling into Luther's fist, with much of it dripping down onto the floor below. And the DCI would quickly follow, allowing Benny to hungrily kiss him again as he reached the finishing line.

The kiss lasted longer than the pair of them, and - as they had both since reached their release - the kiss became less feral and frantic, and more gentle - _soft_ \- with two men gradually coming down from their high in one another's arms, one another's company, seeking comfort from one another's lips. Luther looked thoroughly debauched, whereas Benny's hands were clean - which brought about a smirk - after all, Luther never did shy away from the dirty work - so it was Silver who placed a hand to the other man's face, tenderly. John took a hold of it, kissed it, and replaced it against his cheek.

"Why do they always go, Ben?" John muttered, suddenly sounding lost. "Alice... Justin... Zo. Am I cursed, Ben? The more I love people, the more likely they are to be hurt. I wouldn't get too close to me if I were you," he snorted.

"It's..." Silver began, "It's a dangerous job, being an officer." Realising that half of the names Luther had mentioned were those of people who hadn't actually worked with him, he added, "It's a dangerous world full stop."

"I'll lose you too, you know - eventually," the copper stated, bluntly, his eyes moist with the tears he was trying so desperately to hold back, "You should stay away from me, if you know what's good for you." John was bad news - unlucky, misfortunate, and he knew it. Maybe he was never meant to love - for, everyone he loved, he lost. And, really, it sometimes had to be said that even the mightiest of us could fall prey to loneliness. Who would Luther have to share his life with, when it came to it? Who could Luther have a pint with, or talk to about his day? Most folk thought Luther was as strong as an ox, but Benny saw another side to him - a side that was plagued by misery and doubt.

"Don't be silly," Benny told him, with his lovely Ulster twang. "You're just being paranoid, and take that from a stoner. I'm here for good, matey. Or at least until Schenk throws me off the team for stinking of marijuana," he laughed, rocking Luther by the shoulder and making him laugh too. "Don't worry about it too much," he soothed. "And if anything happens - we carry on, like was always do. We carry on. The world turns, doesn't it? And the world never stops turning. Always moving forward, eh? Like you say," he squinted, and his eyes were starting to sting now - this crying lark could be _absolutely_ contagious, "But let it be known that I'll always love you, John. Anyone who ever knows you - they can't help but love you."

And that was the problem all over. People couldn't help but love John and John fell in love so easily too - and it always resulted in complete disaster, of the worst kind - a knife to a chest perhaps, or a bullet to the brain - for his beloved. This had become a situation he could no longer control - not now that their hearts had become involved in it. From the moment Benny had uttered those words, his fate was sealed and John knew that Benny was a dead man walking. What a careless mistake it seemed to be to _ever_ be dear to DCI John Luther. "Never say that to anyone," he swallowed, eyes trained on Silver's, "You just don't know what it'll mean for you if you bloody do."


End file.
